


Richard Cambell Gansey...The Fourth

by betweentowns



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Baby talk!, F/M, Gansey Saturday Brunch, Hinted smut, One Shot, Pregnant Blue, They're absolutely smitten
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-06-30 11:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19852633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betweentowns/pseuds/betweentowns
Summary: “Oh, thank GOODNESS you escaped the pretentiousness of Richard for the safe haven that is DICK!”(Or, Blue is pregnant and Gansey is forced to bring up the inevitable name suggestion.)





	Richard Cambell Gansey...The Fourth

**Author's Note:**

> Just letting some of our faves be!! happy!! before Maggie inevitably causes some suffering in "Call Down the Hawk." I miss these two. Enjoy :)

Technically, Gansey’s parents had started it.

It was July—the month Blue had decidedly proclaimed as the very worst to be seven months pregnant—and it was the Gansey Saturday brunch—the meal Blue _and_ Gansey (the third) had simultaneously proclaimed as the worst.

“It’s all about politely declining,” Gansey had explained to her before her first-ever Gansey brunch a couple of years ago. He loves his parents, that much is sure, but he—thankfully—also understands that they were admittedly people to be _dealt_ with. In small doses.

And so Blue had taken his advice. The Ganseys were good people.

Mrs. Gansey, ever the politician, was good at reading people and rarely pushed for answers:

“More champagne, Blue?”

“No, thank you.”

“It’s here if you want it.”

Mr. Gansey was the person Blue sometimes observed _her_ Gansey reluctantly was around company—amiable, curious, eager-to-please. Often accidentally condescending:

“Never been to New York City? That just won’t do. What do you say—a helicopter trip over Manhattan? At night—oh, it’s so much better at night.”

“No, thank you. I don’t really think my stomach agrees with helicopter flying.”

As one, Gansey II _and_ III had said—“You get used to it.”

Helen Gansey is the toughest one, with her sleek buns and computerized smiles. Her proud position as the family player has ensured Blue’s spot as the most constant non-Gansey at Gansey brunch. Her newest catch—Helen’s partners are most aptly referred to like this—is a quiet South African girl named Janine. Her unlikeliness to talk leaves Blue as Helen’s prey.

“So are you marrying Dick now or what?”

“I—um…No, thank you?”

Blue flashes a cringe at Gansey and mouths _help_.

He does. “Mom, did I tell you we decided to have the baby at the same hospital Helen was born at?”

It works as is expected. Growing a child is hard work, and Blue is comfortable sitting quietly as the four Ganseys talk animatedly. If their conversation is always like this, even sans guests, it's hard to tell. Blue and Janine occasionally exchange a look: like, are they _real?_ Years of practice, and even for Blue it's hard to tell somedays. 

But her hand is tracing the swell of her belly absentmindedly, and Gansey's is distractingly handsome and dashing as he reflects the light of the people who once knew him best, that distinct shiny feature that is so incredibly _Gansey._ Brunch eggs on, and Blue is content. 

At least up until Mr. Gansey says, “Ahhh. That will be the fourth. I cannot wait.”

“What?” Blue says, interest piqued.

A look—it passes from Gansey to his sister swiftly and _now_ Blue is suspicious. The Gansey siblings are many things, but rarely are they _sympathetic._

“Helen, did I tell you about the new plane I looked at with dad the other day?” Gansey asks. 

Helen launches into the conversation, impossibly more animated than before. Also, like before, Gansey's distraction tactic prevails. 

* * *

“The fourth _what_?” Blue demands the minute they’re back in (Ronan’s new and improved) Pig.

“Well, I mean, I’m sure you’ve picked up on it…”

“Gansey…”

“Well, it’s obviously kind of a thing to name the first boy in the family Rich—well, you know, my name. Obviously. Ha ha.” His fingers tap at the steering wheel and his lips, perpetually playing with a piece of mint—are sheepish.

They pull into the driveway of their new house—a quaint, fixer-upper outside a bustling city somewhere between Henrietta and D.C. that is completely their own. (Blue’s used to bustling.) (Gansey’s a sucker for a fixer-upper.) They are close to Gansey’s parents summer home, not far from Ronan and Adam at the Barns, a short drive from 300 Fox Way. Free to travel as they please. It’s a "for good" place. But not necessarily an "always" place. It's perfect.

Blue is as stormy as her name as she forces her body from the Pig’s passenger seat—which is about as comfortable _pregnant_ as it was _not_ —and storms inside with unbelievable speed. Gansey, after locking the car and closing the garage, walks into their home to the sound of the toilet flushing.

She’s waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting on one of the stools surrounding the granite island.

They look at each other for a minute and it's representative of their relationship how easily understanding passes between them. 

It is pre-surmised: They’re about to fight. Blue is probably about to win.

“ _Your_ name?” She repeats slowly.

He nods, fingering a plant at the windowsill.

“As in, you are genuinely insinuating that our son will be called Richard. Campbell. Gansey. The Fourth.”

He cringes. “It’s a family tradition!”

“That ends now?”

“Oh, don't do that. It’s not _you_ against _me_ it’s, it’s—"

“Me against a long line of the esteemed Gansey clan?”

Gansey frowns. “Yes. Well, no. _Us_ against a long line of—whatever. You know I hate the name too.”

Blue throws her hands up. “I know you do! So why submit our _child_ to it?”

His bottom lip puckers and he crosses the room, reaching out for her. She lets him wrap an arm around her chest, doesn’t protest as he fits his chin onto her shoulder.

His voice is quiet. “Because it will make my parents happy?”

She raises her eyebrows, but the worst of the storm is over. She entwines one of her hands with the one of Gansey’s that’s not playing with her hair and as one they rest the tangle of fingers on her belly.

“And our kid miserable?” Blue questions.

“Hey! _I’m_ not miserable. It’s really not _that_ bad.”

“I’ve never heard a name more pretentious.”

“That’s what nicknames are for! Nicknames save,” he concludes. “Look at me.”

“Oh, thank _goodness_ you escaped the pretentiousness of Richard for the safe haven that is DICK!”

Gansey sighs. The long, exasperated breath is an act borrowed from Ronan, but the breath that fans over her cheek is cool and minty—all Gansey. “You know that isn’t what I meant.”

Blue huffs. “I know nothing.”

“ _Jane_ , all I’m saying, is that we could name him Richard, but call him anything we want.”

“There you go again, imposing unwanted names on people.”

He laughs—he can’t help himself. It’s hard to tell in his peripheral, but he’ll pretend Blue’s lips are pressed together in mirth.

“I love you, you know?”

She shakes her head. “It’s still not happening.”

“I know.” He presses a kiss to the top of her forehead. “What do we tell my parents?”

“The truth?”

“Or, how about, Maura saw a frightening future for a child with that name?”

Blue tuts. “I doubt even your parents will believe it works like that. How about we cross that road when we get there?”

“You brilliant thing. And what about…well, an actual name?”

 _Now_ she’s smiling—even Gansey’s mind couldn’t make up something so awe-inspiring. “Let’s cross that one later, too.”

The smile is cut off with a kiss. He can’t help himself. A good kiss, too. The long sun-filled kind that is all that much better when combined with the realization that they're in their own house. And that they have each other all to themselves. For now, at least. But damn if it doesn’t feel good.

The rest goes on the back burner for a little bit.

(Literally. _On_ the back burner.)

(What can they say? They’re in the kitchen and, well—suddenly rather distracted.) 

* * *

(When their child is born in September, they’re both heartily in agreement—their baby is _the_ most precious person to exist, _the_ most perfect combination of Sargent-Gansey possible.)

(She’s a girl.)

(They name her Jane Sargent Gansey—the first.)

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked! I'm taking prompts/requests from multiple fandoms until the end of the summer. Just ask. (I'll write anything.) Also--little update, I know it's been a while--since you all last heard from me I've been published!! I know, I know. Cool stuff. Lots of love,  
> Betweentowns <3  
> (Also, technically, I live in a big city now...though, betweencities doesn't have quite the same ring to it...I'll work on it.)


End file.
